Diablo: Retibution
by cmort
Summary: Justice has turned to wisdom and a new force steps forward to give justice to those who have been wronged. Be wary, for soon you may feel the wings of Retribution bearing down upon you.
1. An Angel is Born

Retribution

An Angel is born.

"Imperius, move!" A single axe went spinning past Imperius's head, and buried deep into the neck of the Angel behind him, taking it off its feet and out of the fight. Imperius turned, pulling his spear from a Demon's throat and threw it, launching it into the guts of the large horned Demon that had thrown the axe. The Demon was thrown backwards, the spear jutting four feet out either way. "Vile scum!" Imperius roared. He rushed at the creature as it tried to pull itself off the ground, barging past Demon and Angel alike. Not caring what he hurt. The Demon came up with a roar of its own to answer Imperius, sending globs of spit down its bloody fangs. The creature was easily nine feet tall with black skin and hulking shoulders. An animal, born and bred to kill. With long ripping talons and a thick skull, it looked barbaric in comparison to the elegant Imperius. The Demon tore out the spear with another roar and tossed it aside, where it landed in the watery mud. Grabbing the land with its huge hands, it launched itself at Imperius with ferocious strength. Hot blood spilled out of its chest and steamed on the ground, and pieces of bone jutted out of the hole in its chest. But it seemed to pay its injuries no mind. As it gained speed and its feet dug into the earth, sending lofty plumes of filthy water up behind it, the Demon's mouth came agape, as it screamed its wordless rage at the Angel. Imperius answered with deadly silence as he ran at the monster at full pelt...

A crackle of energy could be heard humming through the High Heavens. It was a feeling of warmth in the air, a certain movement of the clouds, and a sound of rushing wind climbing the high peaks of the Arch that pervaded the city of Angels. It had started when Tyrael took the aspect of Wisdom over Justice on the day of Diablo's destruction. As he ascended, a feeling of imbalance had swept through the Heavens, along with the restoring light, and had now become centred around the Arch. It had been of great interest to the Angiris council, who now circled around the Arch warily. They had felt the change first as it spread throughout Heaven, and had been drawn to this new power with a sense of excitement and dread. The first to arrive at the Arch was Itherael, who had been drawn by a vision. The second had been Auriel, who had felt a burgeoning in her soul that this was the place to stand. The third was Tyrael, who like all wise men had sensed where power was being drawn, and hastened to observe its progress. The fourth, Imperius, had deemed finishing off the demon armies that still spilled into Sanctuary was more important than seeing the Arch. A strange idea, the other Councillors thought. Without the Seven, the demon armies had become little more than raiders that scavenged where once they could have taken. Intervention by Imperius was surely no longer necessary. As the Nephalem who had slain Diablo seemed quite adamant that the Angiris Council not take any more interest in human affairs. Though he had not said anything at the time, Tyrael felt that the Nephalem unspoken message was that he would rather Imperius not take any interest, as relations between the Nephalem and the Archangel of Valour had been strained by Imperius's rash temper...

"Pathetic creature." Imperius mumbled, shrugging off the splintered sack that was once a demon. It sagged to the ground covered in dirt and blood. Drawing his spear from its abdomen with a quick tug, Imperius looked out over the plains to observe the battle from his vantage point on the hill. What he saw pleased him. The demons had stood strong as the first wave of Angels carved into them. Some had even acted as leaders. They had rallied the others around them and formed a core that had seemed strong at first. But on the second wave they had shown how far they'd fallen. As the next wave swept in, the thick lines of demons were pierced. The core of leaders was quickly and ruthlessly killed and the battle turned to cleanup as the rest of the demon host retreated up the mountainside, leaving their backs vulnerable, and the slow left to die. Now Imperius watched as the Angels roared up the mountain, cutting down the fleeing demons as they turned to fight. It was a slaughter. Somewhere in the depths of his soul, Imperius could feel a fierce joy spread through him. Battle was all that he loved. It was the place he was created to be in. Imperius laughed. It was a strong throaty laugh. It tore his head back to stare at the sky as the laugh became a roar when the last of the demon host was being hacked apart as they tried to run. Let them flee, he thought. They will find that wherever they go, I will follow! Without Justice, only I stand to pass judgment. Imperius's roar became a scream as his back arched and light poured off him. "I judge you all guilty and sentence you to death!"

Something was stirring in the mists of energy that surrounded the spire. Like a boiling sea of fire they rose as the waves of infinity to slap against the sides of the Arch. Some would pass through as though intangible. The others would leave a burning scar that gave the Arch a battered appearance. The golden lights had become a pool of molten metal which threatened the Council's position, forcing them to move back or be consumed by the raging heat. However, if the base was impressive, if was nothing compared to the tip.

Tyrael cast his gaze upwards in awe. His mouth opening slightly as he stared at the fantastic sight above him. If he was to describe it, he would call it a ballet of light and magic where reality was constantly in flux. A display of the infinite that no mortal could ever hope to comprehend. A shining example of heaven in its most chaotic and perfect form. At the same time it was beautiful and terrifying to Tyrael. His eyes would not flutter for a second in case he missed anything. His mouth would not close as he knew it would only open again a second later. It was a shattering of light that rang with a choir of heavenly voices. A pressure to watch, to observe, was felt by all, even if it was not all consuming like it was on Heaven. Even on the most barren desert, the lowliest of all life was caught in its grip. Eyes turned skyward, looking for something they could not possibly see.

"Come to me, Demon spawn. Come and be vanquished by your tormentor!" Imperius's voice carried over the sounds of the harsh sounds of battle, and was joined by the roar of his angel vanguard as they cut deeper into the last of the demons, who roiled in pitiful annihilation. "Who dares now stand against the might of Imperius? Come on, which one of you has the guts?" A large demon with yellow eyes and dripping fangs hefted his blade at the angel, who dodged with balletic grace and thrust his spear through its screaming mouth, cutting through the back of the head and sending its lifeless body to the ground. "Not you, then." Imperius laughed hard. Caught in the music of battle, he was a whirling light of death that danced through his enemies. Moving forward, he shoved another demon off its feet and plunged his spear into its chest. Whipping around to see another run at him, he dodged left with a spin and cut the muscle in the demons leg, sending another to the ground to be finished off by the vanguard. "Can no one challenge me?" Imperius asked with a laugh, "You try!" Imperius pointed his armoured finger at a snarling slab of muscle and mucus. "Come on, you have a go!" The demon didn't need to be asked. Much as he hated and despised everything about them, Imperius was never left dissatisfied at their violent stupidity. Sending a roar at Imperius, the creature grabbed a sword that had been left in its arm, and slid it out of its flesh. To Imperius, it sounded like the noise of oil being run down a sword with a cloth. It sounded like an interesting fight. Imperius moved fast, pounding his feet into the ground, he launched himself into the air in a plume of dust and dried blood, aiming to end the fight in a single blow to the head. The demon had other plans. The monster was surprisingly quick for its bulk and ducked below the first strike, swinging its sword in a upward motion that Imperius easily parried with the back of his spear. The monster launched another strike with its fist, that caught Imperius in the chest, sending him backwards with a grunt. The creature was a better fighter than Imperius had thought. His arrogance was costing him ground. With a snarl the demon came again, pressing its advantage with several aimed strikes. The first was meant to dig into Imperius's shoulder, but he backed away, leaving the sword to swing uselessly away. The follow up was much closer, clipping Imperius's chest under the defence of the spear, it left a short scratch down his chest that healed almost instantly. Nothing short of a fatal blow would bring him down. Imperius widened the gap between him and his vicious opponent with a few steps backwards. He needed the time to outthink this animal before his own arrogance hurt him...

The light had formed into a massive golden sphere at the tip of the Arch that dripped molten metal down the side, into the City of Angels in long rivers of gold. The clouds that overlooked the Arch had turned black as a coal and struck lightning down upon the platform. Each strike was like a hammer blow on the body and the mind. Sending waves of power into the Arch where it exploded into sound and physical fury that scattered the angels like leaves in a storm. Tyrael and the council had watched from a distance as the sphere grew in size from a pinprick of light to a gleaming star that dwarfed the sky and swallowed lightning as if it were nothing. Even Itherael, who could be counted upon to give answers, was speechless as the sphere reached its full size. In the moments he had alone, whilst the others were off consulting with various other angels for answers or questioning, he had taken to questioning the Scrolls of Fate. They had only one thing to say: Retribution, Retribution, Retribution. Line after line, the word had repeated into infinity until Itherael had grown exhausted just looking at it. He had not been able to glean anything particularly useful for the others to hear, so he kept to himself what he thought. What he thought was that if the foreseeable future contained only retribution, for who or what was the retribution intended?

Another claw slid down Imperius's face as the monster roared spit and foam into his face. The creature had taken several deep wounds itself, from which it bled profusely, but even when he had gone through its chest, the animal had just kept coming. It's hatred of him was propelling it past death itself. An admiral trait in a warrior, Imperius had to admit. Shame this demon possessed such qualities. Despite all that he was, Imperius knew a good warrior when he saw one. Right now he was having his face shaven by one of the best the demon's now had to offer. Even with his spear in its guts, it still found the strength to hurt. That had always been the demon's advantage, he supposed. They just love pain. "Well let's see how much you can take!" Imperius dropped his spear and plunged his hands into the demons eyes, tearing at anything he could reach. Blood and matter pooled into his hands, turning them sticky with gore as they worked away. The creatures reaction was surprising to say the least. Now blinded, it reared backwards with a scream of pain and rage, and then thrust its head back at Imperius, spewing gore and bile onto Imperius's armour. The wash of bile almost fell down into his helmet, and what was on his chest now began to boil like acid. "Try and blind me, you bastard!" Imperius drew a fist back then punched with all his considerable strength. He rocked the beasts head back but it just came back again. Claws scrabbling along his armour, trying to find a place to dig into the body of its tormentor and put out that infernal light forever. But its claws could only slide off Imperius. His armour was slick with blood, and his defence was without imperfections. This fight was over and they both knew it. The lack of blood had taken its toll on the creature and its mad attack had left it on the end of a spear that burned like a firebrand inside its flesh. It was dying and so was the fight in it. With a mighty heave, Imperius used his spear like a pivot and threw the monster off him into the dirt above his head. Imperius rolled and landed on the chest of the creature with his legs clamped firmly down on its arms. Imperius looked at the creature with disgust and hatred. The blood on his armour began to boil off as his anger reached a new peak. Looking down upon the creature as it lay pathetically mewling at the ground, trying to bring its arms into action again, he could no longer think. The red tide of anger that he fought to control overtook him. Looking into the blood caked holes where the animals deflated eyes sat like a melted balloon, he dropped the spear from his hands, and put his fist into the animals mouth. The eye sockets on the creature lifted in alarm and a new wave of strength hit it. But it was too little to fight off the angel now. Grunting, Imperius pushed his arm deeper into the animals mouth, snapping off teeth that once would have had his arm, now only an obstacle to be brushed aside. He felt the weak pushing of its arms and ignored them as he went deeper. He seemed to be searching for something. Suddenly, the demon went limp and its arms stopped flexing: It was dead. Imperius stopped his search. Surprised, he drew his hand out with a pop and looked at the slime that dripped off it onto the demons body. He stared at it for a long time. Even as his vanguard disappeared into the woods to chase the fleeing demons he could not stop looking at his arm. Eventually it took the sight of his Lieutenant marching towards him to take him out of his reverie. He straightened up as he approached and beckoned him towards himself when the Lieutenant stopped just outside the scene, waiting to be invited into whatever his master was doing. "What do you have to report, Igniel? Another wellspring of demons has shown up, I assume." Igniel shook his head.

"No, My Lord. The demons have vanished through whatever gate they spawned from and have retreated back into pandemonium."

"Damn. The cowards never fight to the last, do they? Almost makes killing them not worth it," Imperius shot a glance at his still dripping arm. Almost, he thought to himself. "What else do you have to bother me with, Igniel? I don't believe you would only have come here to confirm what I expected of you. I thought you more humble than that." Igniel nodded quickly this time. He had come to tell Imperius something more important, but he had been unnerved by the way Imperius had been so fascinated by the demon. He was meant to know what his superior needed at all times. Right now he couldn't guess what Imperius needed; or why he kept looking at his arm with the slime on it. "Yes, My Lord," he said quickly, giving the arm one last glimpse. "We have received a message from Archangel Tyrael. He says that it's urgent that you return to the High Heavens at once, Sir. He says something is happening to the Arch..."

Something was happening. Something very, very big. The star had become smaller and yet brighter as it began to lower itself down the Arch atop rods of gold. And the angels found themselves pulled closer despite the risk. They could not look away, and only blind luck saved a few from being killed by the lightning that still hammered the platform they were standing on. It would hit the ground right next to them and then bolt across the floor and into the sphere, barely missing the gathered angels. Tyrael and the council had found themselves drawn the closest to the sphere as it made its slow descent to the platform. Tyrael found that even his angelic eyes could not make out any detail through the blinding light, and they could only guess that it was a sphere from the way the light seemed to reach in all directions equally. In a place of life and light, the sphere sure seemed like it knew how to put them all to shame.

"Itherael, what does the scroll say?" Tyrael did not look away from the sphere for a second, doing so would be wrong. Itherael sighed, though he too did not look away. "They will say the same thing they have said since this whole thing started. Retribution, Tyrael."

"Retribution, retribution," Tyrael mumbled. The sphere was very close to the platform now and had reached a point of brightness that made it painful for him to look at. For a moment, Tyrael wondered if it would burn his eyes right from their sockets. But there was nothing he could do. He squinted and hoped for the best. Looking away was not an option. "This sphere is Retribution, then? Retribution for what? What have we done?" Itherael shrugged. Though it seemed silly in afterthought. "The scroll was not very specific, Tyrael. Well, it isn't at the best of times, but this time it was particularly skimpy on details."

"So we know nothing about this sphere, and no way of knowing what it will do, or even if it is on our side. What do we do, Itherael?" Itherael shrugged again. When he spoke he sounded tired, as if the weight of the world was rushing out of his lungs. "You're the Archangel of Wisdom. In all aspects of common sense or questions that involve practicality I defer to you. I read the scrolls, you figure out what to do next." Tyrael smiled, and for once his dark face lit up from within.

"Well my friend," he said with the smile widening. "This time I have no idea." And then the sphere touched the ground with a single ring like a bell. And for a second, the world exploded.

Imperius was in a rotten temper as he walked through Heaven. The monsters slime had refused to be washed off by simple water and stubbornly remained on his 'Skin' a mark he would have to wear for some time. "And I thought a little water would clear me of this deed," he muttered to himself. It was a long walk to where he was going, and he did not much like going there. Certainly not at the beck and call of that bastard upstart, Tyrael. No, that one was trouble all right. First he saves the humans from rightful destruction and then he tries to usurp me on the council. Well fear not, Tyrael. Your betrayal will be repaid soon enough. When the Scroll of Fate forgets you and Hope has left you, I will have my vengeance. If an angel could smile, then Imperius's smile would have drawn some concerned looks from the other angels. If there had been any other angels that is. The vanguard had stayed behind to make sure the gate was closed, and he had no idea where the others where. Probably at the Arch, dealing with Tyrael's mess, Imperius thought angrily. How could Tyrael be so inept as to let the Arch fall into some kind of dange-A flash of light and a roar like bulls made of thunder crashed through heaven. It took Imperius from his feet, as if he were nothing and pounded him into a wall, where he sat groggily for a moment. As he struggled to stand a second wave came and cracked his head into the wall, sending him into a daze with black spots swimming in his vision and darkness rising in his head. He tried to fight against the waves of darkness that battered against him, but despite all his strength, he was swept away into unconsciousness, with the sound of Tyrael's echoing laughter following him all the way down.

Igniel was troubled by his masters dour mood. After a battle, Igniel had never found more pleasant company than Imperius to be around, as his spirits were always high after a battle. Today however Imperius had been hard company to stay around. He had been quiet and reserved as he made his way to heaven. Sometimes throwing casual insults down on Igniel as if he did not care who he insulted that day. Igniel had done his best to ignore them, but some of them had seemed more mad than sense. It had been strange when he had confused Igniel for Archangel Tyrael, and he had seemed almost...violent when he confused the two of them. And had gone back to his sullen mutterings when Igniel had pointed this out to him. No, something was definitely troubling his master. Troubling him enough to make threats towards another Archangel. However, he had more pressing things on his mind than the grumblings of an already high strung angel. He had to find where the demons where striking from in pandemonium. And that meant opening a portal straight into hell itself. All in all, it was not going to be 'fun' and Igniel did not envy the vanguard of their place. First into battle is first to die, is what he always thought. He was always right as well. The vanguard had a long and 'proud' history of having the most dead at the end of the battle. They were legion and they were tough. Given the best weapons and sung into powerful bodies, the shock troops of Heaven were not to be trifled with. Despite the high death count, they always had the most kills. They were legendary, and very, very useful. Useful idiots, Igniel thought with a quiet chuckle. Not like there isn't enough of those to go aroun- A ring of a bell. A flash of light and the world exploded.

"Excuse me, bar wench. But I believe that when I put money on the counter you're supposed to look at me, not the ceiling. Hello? Can someone explain to me what this woman is...doing. Oh." Looking around the inn at the heart of Caldeum, the adventurer could see he was going to have some trouble getting eye contact from anyone tonight. And he had so been hoping for a body to warm his bed after such a long journey. In fact, he had mostly been looking forward to just talking to someone who wasn't a Templar, a Thief or some kind of Mystic. Someone normal who wouldn't scream about skeletons on their first day together. That would have been nice. But no, it seemed everyone was fascinated by the ceiling. Well, if that was how they were going to thank him for saving the world, so be it. "I guess I'll take two beers," he said leaning over the counter and plucking two bottles from where they were nestled. "And I guess I'll be on my way." With that he turned and walked up the steps to the door which he thrust open just as a warm breeze rolled in a blew his hair back. It was getting far too long and he needed it cut. But for now, the Wizard was content with how he looked. After all, he laughed, downing one beer and opening the other, who wouldn't want to look like me?-A ring of a bell. A flash of light and the world exploded.


	2. Chapter 2: Heaven

Diablo: Retribution

Chapter 2: Heaven

_In the beating dark there burns a flame; which forged for itself a single name to strike terror into those who sin._

_Whispered to those who deal in fear; It would whisper so sweetly: Retribution is here._

A soft light filtered into Tyrael's eyes, causing him to stir from unconsciousness with a moan. He propped himself up on his left arm, while his right came to his forehead to shield his eyes from the light. What he saw did not please him. Around him several Angels where beginning to regain consciousness as well. Though some seemed very still to Tyrael. No doubt there would be plenty of bodies to sing away tonight, that was if the Arch could still perform its duties. Tyrael shook his head in dismay, it was a sobering thought.

He grimaced as a bolt of pain ran down his face and earthed deep inside his head. A thin line of blood had leaked from his ear, and his chest felt like it had been hit with a hammer in several places. He could feel something grind in his shoulder when he picked himself up from the ground, and it was all he could do to not yell in pain when he felt it wrench back into place with a hollow pop. A cold numbness crept down his arm and into the tips of his fingers. It was an unpleasant sensation, as if at any moment the arm would wither and die. Grasping his injured arm with the other, letting the light fall on his face once more, Tyrael began to walk slowly through the mess of rousing Angels. He told himself he was looking for the Council, but anything to take his mind off what he had just seen would do...

Shadows shifted over Imperius's form as he lurched upright with a grunt. His head felt like it had been impaled on a spike, and his temper had not improved from the sudden bout of unconsciousness. Using his spear for support, he managed to lever himself into a standing position. But when he tried to move, everything seemed to fall away from him, leaving him scrabbling for support. More than once he found himself hanging on to a wall to stop himself from falling over. Were anyone to see him so weak, he thought he might have had to kill them. Better for them to think you're invincible than to have them prey on you when you're weak, he thought bitterly.

As far as he could tell, it had been a few hours since he had been battered into unconsciousness. The sun had moved perceptibly, and the great orb no longer dominated the sky. Whatever has happened, he thought, is over. The thought angered him. Whatever test the universe had thrown his way, he had failed. He was the protector of Heaven, and he had failed it.

A feeling of unaccustomed shame wormed its way into his gut and lay there like a dead animal, draining him of the last of his strength.

With the last of his staggering steps, he fell against his spear, not caring if anyone saw him at this point. He had failed. He deserved to be seen for the weakling he was! Bright dots flashed in his vision and a great ache started in the base of his neck and worked its way into his head. He brought his head to rest against the spear, willing the pain to stop. He stood for a while, deep in thought, listening to the calm breeze as it wove through the destruction, whistling quietly whenever it rounded a corner.

Time moved slowly as he rested. The feeling of shame rooted him like a anchor, but the ache seemed to have shrunk somewhere in his head. It was maddening, but manageable. But with the pain dulled, he could feel the hole left by the departure of his strength. He pressed his head against the spear even harder, and waited for his strength to return.

It wasn't long before he felt the first throb of heat inside him. His fist tightened on his spear. He felt it. A deep, beating heat swell through his body like hot lead in a mould, offering him the strength he badly needed. It was dangerous to let anger rule him, he had learned. But he embraced it like a man embraces water when he has been in the desert too long.

Standing straighter, with an air of fierceness surrounding him, he grimly moved on, passing with barely a glance at the ruined statues that lay discarded on the side, their Angelic forms twisted and shattered in the explosion. He felt a sense of confidence that came with his anger. No matter what was waiting for him when he reached the Arch, he knew it could not stop him. I am the aspect of Valour, he thought. What could ever threaten me?

An image of Tyrael swam unbidden before Imperius's eyes, taunting him with its presence. Suddenly the anger blazed into a fury that swept everything, but the single mocking image, away. "Tyrael," he muttered darkly. His wings burned fiercely as they trailed in his wake, scorching glowing lines in the ground where they dragged. "When the time comes, I'll deal with you and your precious Nephalem."

Tyrael knew something was troubling Imperius as he stormed onto the platform, flanked by two Angels that Tyrael did not recognise. Tyrael guessed they were a part of Imperius's private stock. The leader of Heaven's host would accept only the best for his personal legions. It was something he took great pride in, and something Tyrael took exception to.

He turned away from Imperius, though even over the vast expanse of the Arch, Tyrael could still feel Imperius's fierce gaze on his back. It was all he could do not to place his hand on El'druin's hilt as he felt the ground shake at Imperius's approach.

Relations with Imperius had been strained even before Diablo's invasion, though that had seemed to bring their disagreements to a head. Even the thought of slaughtering the last of the Demon hordes had not been enough to soothe Imperius's rage. If anything, it had made things worse.

Tyrael watched closely as one of the angels detached himself from Imperius and moved towards him. He had the bright, armoured body of any Angel, though his was distinguished by an embossing of a hammer surrounded with a bright halo on his breastplate. His shoulders were slightly bigger as well, Tyrael noticed with a glance. A brawler and a butcher then. No doubt Imperius had bred him to be as such. Tyrael shook his head sadly. Imperius had changed many things over the years, and it was only now that most of it was coming to light. Tyrael sighed. At least this one had wings.

Igniel was nervous as he approached the aspect of wisdom. Taking in his dark skin and strong complexion was strange enough, but catching his dark eyes left him deeply unsettled. There was something in there. Something...not right. Seeing him shake his head was also upsetting. He felt he was being judged and found wanting, something he often felt by his brothers.

There was no life for his kind, he knew. They were bred to fight and die at their masters request. Never slowing, never stopping. To be thrown at the enemy as cheap cannon fodder, while the experienced angels manoeuvred against the horde properly. True, many battles had been won this way. But the whole idea left Igniel feeling a little sick. More than one of those Angels had been malformed. No more than weapons to their betters; meant for little more than to be meat for the beasts. They had been bred as creatures without wings. An abomination, but a useful one.

Igniel had been sure he was going to die in the first battle. Facing the horde as they charged down the blackened mountain that spewed fire behind them had terrified them all. It had only been Imperius's roar that had brought him the courage to raise his weapon and fight. He had slain demon after demon in a frenzy until the last of the beasts had lain wheezing at his feet. He still couldn't fully remember the battle, only bits and pieces. But what he did remember was Imperius walking over to him after the battle, where he had been sitting on a rock, surveying the scene around him. Imperius had laid a hand on his shoulder and asked him his name. And he had replied with:

"I have no name, sir. None was ever given to me."

"No name," Imperius had said as he planted his spear in the ground. "You are one of the Deformed then?" Igniel had shrugged then. There was no point denying it. "Yes sir. One of the Deformed."

"And yet you live, Deformed? How is that possible?" Igniel had shrugged again.

"I don't know sir. Luck, I guess." Imperius shook his head and squeezed the shoulder tighter, noting that the Angel did not show any obvious sign of discomfort. A strong one indeed. "Luck had little to do with it, Deformed. I saw you fight your way through the horde to the very end, an impressive feat. Not once did I see you falter or hear you scream. And I must admit, I kept myself very close to you at times."

Igniel had felt a wave of shock pass through him then. He remembered looking up at Imperius, astonished and quietly prideful at this news. "Why would you keep yourself close to me, sir? Surely there are those who deserve your attention more!" Now it was Imperius's turn to shrug.

"Not today, my friend. Today you were the one I noticed. Today you were the best." Igniel had been stunned at this, and had found himself at a loss for words. It did not matter, as he found that Imperius had been more than willing to fill that gap with his own. "It has been a long time since I have been so impressed by another. Not since my last Lieutenant have I seen such promise." Imperius lowered his head for a moment before he returned his lantern like gaze to Igniel. "He is dead now. Killed by some brute from behind. A cheap death. He deserved better."

"I'm sorry to hear that," Igniel had replied, though he had felt no real loss for the Angel. Instead, he had felt a burgeoning excitement that swelled his chest with pleasure. Imperius had nodded at the time. Remarking later to Igniel, that watching the young Angel swell under his gaze had brought not only a sense of satisfaction, but also one of pride. He had said, years later, "That it was then I knew that you would never fail me."

Nothing had been made official on the battlefield. But when they had returned to Heaven, Imperius had made sure that Igniel stayed around him wherever he went. It became common knowledge that Igniel was Imperius's second in command. Igniel also remembered that it had become common knowledge that any undue harshness to the Deformed would be met with swift punishment, though he could not remember how that particular rumour got around.

After ten years of fighting, barely a moment in the scheme of the war, Imperius had taken him to the Arch with several others, and sung for them names of their own. Igniel remembered passing through the Arch and knowing that his name was Igniel, and that no others would ever be called by his name again. It was his own. The only thing he possessed for himself. Of course Imperius had sung a hammer into creation for him to wield, and yes there was the new found respect he had been given. But the only thing he owned, the only thing he felt he had ever made for himself, was his name. And ever since then, he had proved time and time again that he had been worthy of Imperius's faith in him. And never would he see that faith tarnished. No matter what.

Tyrael nodded again at the Angel, seemingly breaking him from his deep reverie. "Imperius requires something of me? Does he want me to bark and lick his boots like a good little dog?" He asked bluntly. He was in no mood for games today, and definitely not the increasingly tiring and frightening games that Imperius devised to test him.

Igniel took a step backwards at the force of his words. Imperius had said that relations with Tyrael had been tense of late, but Igniel could only have guessed at the frustrations on both sides. Seeing one being so curt of the other unsettled him. "My master requests that you see him immediately. He wants to know what is happening up here."

Tyrael grunted and turned away from the Angel to stare at the Arch once more. "Can your master not find the strength to come to me? Or does his arrogance weigh him down somehow?" Igniel shrugged, he too was in no mood for games, especially if it meant being a pawn in them. Crossing his arms, he stared at the back of Tyrael's smooth head. "My master does not specify why he does not move, nor did I ask. It isn't my job to question what he wants, only to provide them to him when he asks. Even if it requires force." Tyrael smiled, though it was not a happy one. He turned around quickly, with his cloak following in behind him, and took half a step toward Igniel so that they were face to face. Igniel felt a sick sense of discomfort rise in his throat, but he did not recoil again. The smell of humanity was not a pleasant one for the Angel.

"Your service to your master does you proud, Angel. Let us hope he treats his dogs with better respect than his peers." Tyrael swept past Igniel, leaving the retort to die in his throat. He had more dangerous foes to bicker with than the brainless mutant.

Imperius felt a new surge of anger as he saw Tyrael brush Igniel out of the way with a single step. Had it been him in Igniel's place, he would have taken Tyrael's head off with a single swipe for his insolence. The Angel on his left, a powerful sword wielder by the name of Donte, moved forward into a defensive posture as Tyrael drew closer. Sensing without noticing, that tensions were running high. Imperius, however, merely grunted at Tyrael's arrival, disgusted as always by the human features that he wore.

"What do you want Imperius?" Tyrael demanded angrily. "I've had enough of dealing with your petty whims for today." Imperius bristled and Donte rested his hand on the hilt of his sword, daring Tyrael to move closer. Tyrael ignored him and focused on Imperius, noting how his gaze never met his own. "Well?" Tyrael demanded yet again, angry at the sheer arrogance Imperius displayed at every opportunity.

Imperius could feel his hands itching to summon his spear. Yearning to send it through that smug skull and out the other side like a bolt of lightning. Donte, he noticed, had a similar idea. "I want to know what is going on here, Tyrael!" Imperius's voice boomed across the expanse, drawing the attention of the other Angels. "Heaven weeps at the destruction you have wrought in my absence!" Imperius gestured to the surrounding destruction with an open hand, before returning it to his side. "How much longer must we wallow in your inadequacies before you swallow your own hubris and choke on it?"

Imperius gazed round at the other Angels, noting how they all followed his gaze to see who he looked at. "I think that you have been spending too long with the Nephalem, Tyrael. I think their incest has somehow corrupted your leadership. Maybe I should remove them, so you can finally do your job!"

Suddenly, Tyrael moved closer to Imperius. Donte's blade was at Tyrael's neck in a flicker of metal, but Tyrael pushed Donte away with a flick of his hand, sending him sprawling over and landing with a crash that echoed far. Every Angel on the Arch was now looking at them. Imperius bristled, he knew that at last Tyrael's treachery would be unveiled to them all.

Tyrael, despite losing his angelic form was still an imposing figure, and drew up to his full height to look Imperius in the eye. Imperius stared back, matching Tyrael's fury with his own.

The moment stretched on and on as they stared each other down, daring the other to draw first. Tyrael's hand was perfectly still as it hung calmly next to El'druin's hilt. Imperius's own were just as still, though a light haze could be seen seeping through the gaps between his fingers, as he readied for Solarion's apparition. To the surrounding Angels it felt like a storm had suddenly appeared from behind the sun, and was now forcing them to watch as the pressure built up to unleash the torrent that would consume them all. It was too late to leave. Any movement would have felt like a signal for the fighting to begin.

No one wanted it to come to this, though many had suspected it would. There had been whispers of discord amongst the Angels for months after Diablo's defeat. Chief among these whisperers was Itherael, who stood frozen, glancing between Imperius and Tyrael, and occasionally the Arch.

The haze in Imperius hands had turned into a molten metal that dripped between his fingers in fat globules that hissed as they dropped to the floor. Imperius could barely hold himself back any longer. Maybe Tyrael's treachery would never be proven, but better to gut the rat now and be done with it than risk him escaping and causing more trouble.

Tyrael himself was growing impatient as the minutes dragged by. He had always known that their natures would invariably lead them to conflict, though he never thought that things could have deteriorated this much. Without the common enemy of the Demons, Imperius and he could never find harmony. Now was the time to remove that disharmony, he thought. They would at last see how Imperius's rage and arrogance would never allow for the rest of them. Time and time again he had thrown away the advice and authority of the council to pursue his own agenda. Tyrael vowed that today that would end. At last there would be harmony.

"We would have never survived the war had it not been for you, Imperius, of that much I am certain. But your arrogance and warmongering have now become insipid traits that you brandish like a weapon. You lack the grasp on reality needed to lead, and I have no doubts that you would have us fight our allies when this war is finished. You would even have us fight ourselves before you would let the fires of war die! It is all that you know how to do, it is all that you are now. Your bloodlust will lead you to war after war, forever seeking new enemies where none existed, until at last you're forced to confront yourself," Tyrael paused for a while, thinking on this. The Angels that watched strained to hear him. Not a sound disturbed the moment. Tyrael sighed, grimly, as the droplets from Imperius's hands turned to a stream that bathed the floor in red as it cooled. "Maybe then you might have understood why you can no longer be allowed to lead."

Lightning split the sky in two as Solarion exploded in a shower of molten metal into Imperius's hand, drawing a shocked gasp from the Angels, who backed away again. Imperius brought the tip of the spear to point at Tyrael, impaling him in his mind. The thought of Tyrael's head swinging from Solarion's handle brought a hint of mad happiness to Imperius voice as he whispered, "Now we all see you for the traitor you are, Tyrael. I always suspected we would see Justice and Wisdom fall."

Tyrael shook his head at Imperius, and spat back, "Only one as arrogant and mad as you would hope to see them fall."

Imperius roared at this last barb, shaking the air as he did so. The Angels who had stayed to listen now fled for their lives, as the first clash of weapons rang out through Heaven.

Through the Firmament.

The Arch crackled gently to itself as the two clashed. A small ripple of air seemed to hang between the two spires before it spilled through.

Inside, Tyrael's words rebounded off walls that could not be seen, and buried themselves deep within layers that could not be felt, where it nestled, hoping never to be found. It waited with impossible patience for a moment to escape from this place.

In the midst of this place of infinite, a dull cackle could be heard emanating from some corner. It seemed to bounce to and thro through the infinite, growing closer and louder before slipping below some threshold of sound. Always it would appear again, growing louder and closer each time. Once it Peered through the firmament and into the reality of Heaven, before it dove back down, cackling madly as it did. It spiralled down, its silky black body going deep into the layers of darkness that had flourished since Diablo had placed its claws on the Arch. The layers could go on forever if you weren't careful, and more than one had been lost to their depths.

The words of Tyrael trembled as they felt the creature sniffing them out. Again and again they heard it dive down into the darkness, only to reappear closer and closer each time. They had not wanted to come here, they had never wanted to even exist. To have such words spoken so close to the edge of reality was a terrible thing indeed. And now only the dark folds of this place shielded them from danger. If only they could escape into Heaven, they might dissipated into the air and prevent the creature from capturing them.

They froze. Far below a soft cackle echoed up from some unknown depth. A feeling of great pressure began to rise, crushing them and trapping them in this place. Soon it would breach, and have them all.

Quickly and collectively, lest they be scattered and lost in the dark, they plunged out of the dark fold and into the relative light of the infinite. All around them howls erupt from the darkness, baying at this bright new thing in their dark old sanctum. As they hurried away to find the exit, dark, spidery shapes appeared from nowhere and scuttled towards them, howling like wolves as they scurried over each other.

Panic gave great speed to the words as they flew for the entrance, seeking desperately to burst out into the light of reality once more; where they might die without the sickening thoughts of these creatures scratching at them, begging for shape.

From the howls came the soft cackle again that seemed to mock their efforts at escape as it drew even closer. Wherever this thing scuttered, it did so alone. No other creature dared to go near it.

They had drawn close enough to the Arch that its light now illuminated what was around them. What it showed made less sense than what the darkness had hidden. Looking without eyes, they could see creatures of no form or shape scurry over what seemed like clouds made of black silk and inflated with air. No form was stable, not even the clouds, which shifted and contorted without any apparent cause. The creatures themselves were just shadows that seemed to forever tumble over themselves, even as they leapt. The howls that had seemed so fierce only moments ago had become sad and pathetic.

But there was one that moved alone; one that was defined with a shape that seemed to emulate its intent. It was blacker than any shadow, and moved with a casual malice that suited its cackle. Its hunched shoulders and dark snapping muzzle suggested a hyena, but its body, which seemed to consist of strings of dark flesh strung over a lean, decaying skeleton, appeared to be more lizard like. As it ran on its two front legs, the back ones flowed out behind it in tatters, catching a wind where none existed. It cackled wildly as it leapt from cloud to cloud. Nipping at the air as if it could already taste them.

As they fled through the infinite, they came under several attacks from creatures who had positioned themselves further ahead. One came so close that it seemed to take shape in midair, before falling back into the abyss below.

The hyena creature seemed to dog at them the worst. Jumping between the clouds, it would leap out a great distance to snap at their tails, gnawing the air as it went past. It tried this a few more times before it gave up, and instead kept level with the pack leaders. Its eyes never left them though, even in the darkness they could see its dull yellow eyes leer up at them.

As the chase wore on, it sent one last cackle up from its slobbering jaw, then it dived down into the clouds, its legs trailing behind it. Another howl went up at its disappearance. It was almost like they were mocking it.

With the creature gone and the light growing fast, the others grew bolder and more desperate. But even with the desperation driving them on, they were still falling away under the light.

They had drawn so close to the firmament that they could see the indistinct shapes of Heaven through it. It was like looking through foggy glass, but it gave them hope.

Behind them, the howls of the animals had been left behind in the gloom. As the light had grown brighter, the creatures had fled into their dark recesses. The cackle of the other creature had not returned either, though that was more disturbing somehow. The silence it had left behind in the infinite was total as they drew up to the firmament. They could now see Imperius and Tyrael as they fought. Igniel and Itherael could be seen as well. They stood at opposite ends, Igniel watching as the two Angels hacked at each other, and Itherael staring right at them. They hurried to be the first through the firmament, spreading out and lagging behind as they did so. None of them noticed the shadow that was creeping down towards them, with its dull yellow eyes firmly locked on them.

As the first passed through the firmament, the creature struck. It dove into them and scattered them like fish in the sea, grasping at them with skeletal fingers even as they tried to escape. The first one was swallowed, quickly followed by three more. Each gulp brought a smile that showed the yellowing teeth of the creature, as the silvery words slipped down its throat and into darkness. The last one fled for the firmament, going low beneath the creature as it slobbered on its feast.

As it pulled out from under it, the fingers clasped on its tail and wrenched it back violently. The struggle was quick, and then it to slid down the throat, bringing another yellow grin to its face.

With the last of them swallowed, it turned to gaze at the firmament, smiling even wider as it did so. With another cackle, it whispered something to itself before diving back into the depths. Its mad laughter following it all the way down.

Itherael felt relief wash over him when the creature disappeared into the dark, taking its abominable grin with it. He had watched as Tyrael's words were snatched up by the beast's claws and swallowed down its maw. Their tiny struggles as they slid down had been enough to make him shudder. But when the creature had looked at him and whispered its...blasphemies! Itherael had thought it might crawl out and swallow him too. The thought made him shudder again.

Despite the battle that was still raging only metres away, Itherael could not bring his attention to anything but its message. There had been curses and things that boiled away at his soul, but something it said had made him freeze with dread. With its grin spread like flesh recoiling from an infection, it had whispered:

"When Justice has gone to bed, and all his light has fled. When evil dances and injustice prances. Who will emerge from the dark with a shield for those who cower, and a burning whip for evil men and heartless monsters who have all the power?"

"In the beating dark there burns a flame; which forged for itself a single name to strike terror into those who sin.

Whispered to those who deal in fear; It would whisper so sweetly: Retribution is here."


	3. Chapter 3: It has cracked

Diablo: Retribution

Chapter 3: It has cracked

Igniel watched in horror as the two of them engaged each other with a ferocity he had never seen before. Spins, cuts, and dodges all blurred together as they tried to disembowel each other. The assembled Angels screamed and ran for their lives as the fight grew wilder and more reckless.

A rabid swing by Imperius was deftly avoided by Tyrael, who used the opening to strike high at Imperius's neck with murderous speed, but El'druin was swatted away by Imperius, who pressed forward with a roar, redoubling his frenzied attack.

Solarion and El'druin came together again and again, each exchange sending sparks and molten light to splash and boil against the angel's chests, leaving black scars across the ornate armour when the light sputtered and died.

Each failed attack brought another roar from Imperius, who continued to press his attack, swinging Solarion around his head like a hammer to bring it crashing down against El'druin once more. But Tyrael was not where Imperius had expected him to be.

Tyrael darted under the berserk arc of Solarion, and slid El'druin deep into Imperius's stomach, drawing a scream of rage and pain from Imperius. Pure light spilled from the wound and snaked its way down. Tyrael pulled El'druin out with a grunt, and danced back, watching the angel fall to his knees with a deafening crack. Tyrael's chest heaved as he dragged air into his wasted lungs. "It's over Imperius. You have lost."

Imperius's head hung low on his shoulders, and he did not look at Tyrael when he responded. "All of Heaven has lost, Tyrael. You're betrayal will lead to the destruction of all creation." Imperius spat and glared at Tyrael. "War will consume all of us, because of you!" Imperius let his head hang loose again. Tyrael shook his head. He stepped to the side of the slumped angel, and placed El'druin's blade on Imperius's neck.

Looking down the long blade of El'druin to Imperius's neck he whispered: "No, my old friend. The war is over."

Imperius turned his head to stare up into Tyrael's face. The burning embers that were his eyes flicked between Tyrael's, searching for something.

Imperius snorted and looked back down to the floor. He seemed to shrink as he did so. No longer the powerful and deadly warrior, he looked scared, though it was not because of Tyrael. "Not yet Tyrael. But it will be soon."

Tyrael nodded and raised El'druin slowly until it was over his head. Imperius's blood slipped down the length of the sword and dripped slowly from the handle onto the floor between Tyrael's feet. Tyrael subconsciously counted five drops, and brought El'druin down.

Tyrael looked down at the blood that flowed from the open wound. It was red, and it was warm.

Igniel stepped back from Tyrael, drawing his sword out from the aspect's back with a jerk. Tyrael turned slowly, his face was pale and his eyes had already begun to glaze over. Blood spilled from his lips. He took a step towards Igniel, but his steps were shaky and unsure. He reached to grasp Igniel's collar, but slipped down the angel and clattered into a pool of his own tacky blood. He made to pick himself up, but his hands slipped in the blood, and his body collapsed. A small tide of blood washed across his cheek and spread to the furthest corners if the pool. For Tyrael, it was the longest moment of his life before the ripple disappeared from sight. And for someone who has lived as long as I have, that is impressive, he thought.

Igniel stepped back in shock as Tyrael sputtered and shook. His foot caught El'druin's blade with a loud ring.

Tyrael twisted his head slowly, gritting his teeth as blood seeped into his nose and stained half his face in clotted ichor. Breathing was was extremely painful for him; each one brought blood from the wounds into his lungs, where they were coughed out onto the floor. He looked up into the helmet of Igniel, who was frozen in a sudden fear, for a long time. For a moment his eyes blazed with clarity and they pierced into Igniel's soul, scraping away the crusts and detritus that covered the angel like armour. What was left made Tyrael grimace. He looked at the Arch, then Imperius, and then back to Igniel. "I'm so sorry. I did not know." Tyrael's last words came through choked sobs as pain robbed him of his senses and sent his mind to the peaceful oblivion, at last. His eyes became empty and his head lulled in the blood.

"Better that nobody knew, Tyrael. They would not understand. Nor would you. Help me up, Igniel." Igniel shook himself, and turned to help Imperius to his feet. "What did he mean, sir?"

"Do not worry, Igniel. It was not important." Imperius drew Solarion under the crook of his arm to support himself. Already the bleeding had slowed to a dribble, and the light in the blood had softened until it was almost gone.

Igniel nodded, though his curiosity was not abated.

Imperius made to walk away, but stopped when he realised Igniel was not with him. He turned around to see Igniel dragging Tyrael's body towards the now quiet Arch. "What are you doing?" He demanded, advancing on Igniel. "Do not think to put that traitor's body to rest in the Arch. He does not deserve such honour!"

"I should say he does!" Imperius and Igniel both started at the new voice. Itherael appeared from behind the Arch and marched on both of them, his wings trailing a wavy haze behind him. His armour was glowing, and each tread echoed like a hell drum in the abyss. "Who are you to make claims on what is deserved by others. Especially you, mutant! Your kind has been the bane of the heavens ever since Imperius conjured you from demon essence and perverted our halls with your presence. Both of you will leave this place, and you will never return!"

"Itherael, calm yourself," Imperius retorted, placing himself between Itherael and the body of Tyrael. "There is much you have been made blind to by this traitor."

Itherael crossed the last distance and heaved a punch into Imperius's chin, crumpling the armour and pushing the great angel backwards. "There is only one traitor, Imperius. One so blinded by arrogance that he cannot see himself in his own reflection!"

Imperius leapt to his feet with a mighty roar, pulling Solarion up to point at Itherael's chest. Molten light flowed off the tip and scoured the ground below with deep grooves. His eyes burned like twin stars in an empty void. They were insane with anger and fear. "Traitors and dissenters! Fiends and schemers, wastage and offal! That is all the council is Itherael, it's all it has ever been. It is time for these traitors of heaven to relinquish their grip on its fate, and allow a true supporter to lead." Raw light spilled from Imperius's armour, and his voice echoed across the High Heavens, reaching into the most empty of places and filling them with his prophecy.

Itherael stepped back from Imperius, warily watching the spear, which followed his every move. "It is time for an ascension, Itherael. It is time for the heavens to accept a God!"

Itherael snorted, though he felt only a sense of fear and dread pervading his soul, swallowing all his other emotions. "And who would heaven accept as its God?"

Imperius's answer shattered glass and cracked marble as it spread across the heavens. All angels who could hear flocked to the Arch in their billions. Even the Deformed clambered from their shallow barrackses. Those that could fly did quickly, those who couldn't rushed on foot, eager, and fearful, to see the revolution.

Itherael drew his sword and screamed his defiance. "Not you, never you, Imperius!"

"Traitor! The councils deaths will be the catalyst for my ascension. All with know of your betrayal, of how you would make us weak from within, until we caved to our enemies."

"There are no more enemies Imperius. Only the ones you imagine there to be."

"There are always enemies, Itherael. And I will make sure that Heaven is ready to meet them, no matter what we must sacrifice."

"You would sacrifice Judgement and Wisdom for your crusade? How lost are you Imperius? Can you see an end to it at all?"

"It ends now." Imperius charged at Itherael with another roar, as thousands of angels poured from the clouds above, horrified at what they were witnessing. Itherael blocked Imperius's first lunge, and reposted with a flourish. But while the angels rushed to separate the two, they failed to notice the Arch.

The Arch had gone from bright white to being veined with black. Black mist poured off its frame and flowed across the platform, ensnaring Tyrael's body and encircling Igniel, who had not noticed. Sounds that could not be produced in this reality left harsh lines in the air and soured the ears of any creature who heard them. The skies above became black, and tacky as the blood that stained the Arch. Sinews strung between them like lungs, and it began to rain red and silver globules, mixed in with black gore. The surrounded angels did not notice the change until a bolt of black lightning exploded against the Arch with a deafening thunderclap. When they realised that something was wrong, it was already too late.

Imperius ran at Itherael, who he had tossed to the ground, with Solarion poised to pierce the angel. But he was stunned by a bolt of magic that Itherael threw at his head, wrenching it back and sending Imperius to the ground.

Itherael made to continue his attack, but a sudden pain in his leg made him look down. It was his scroll. It was on fire. Black fire. Demon fire.

Itherael snatched the scrolls from his leg and flung them across the Arch. He watched fearfully as the seal burned away and the scrolls sprang open, still wreathed in flame. He watched as line after line was written in black fire. Each only a single word long. 'Retribution. Retribution. Retribution. Retribution. Retribution.'

He looked from the scrolls to the Arch, and he fell to his knees. "It has cracked." It was all he could utter before the Arch exploded. Fire and chunks of the greatest piece of creation that had ever been rained from the sky and crushed the temples and homes below. Lightning smashed against the platform and the surrounding angels, frying hundreds of them in seconds.

Their bodies destroyed, the angels were covered by the black mist and drawn into the clouds above.

The clouds drew together into a thick, soupy mass. It was illuminated from inside by the almost constant bolts of lightning that peeled off it.

Light burst from within the storm and raced down to the platform, trailing white light behind it. It splashed on the platform and flooded it with a white mist. Coiled in the centre of the mist, in wings as black as night, was an angel.

Itherael drew the scrolls to himself and began to weep, not minding the flames that licked at his armour. They could not hurt him now. He was already dead.

Imperius picked himself up and marched towards the coiled angel, motioning for Igniel to follow him. As he approached, the angel uncoiled itself and stretched, looking around the wasteland that used to be the Arch.

Its wings were about the same length as any other angel, but Igniel noted how its fingers where more like claws, and that its armour did not seem to glow from within like the other angels.

Imperius stepped into the angel's view and pointed Solarion at its head, drawing the creature's attention. "Where did you come from, creature?" Imperius demanded, jabbing Solarion for emphasis.

The angel tilted its head to inspect Imperius. It did not seem impressed. "Answer my master, beast." He, for it was evidently a he by its large shoulders and stature, turned to study Igniel. With him, it seemed far more impressed. "I am the answer to all your sins, angel. I am the brand in the dark, I am the shadow on the stain that is the universe, I am the great leveller. I am Retribution." It laughed, but it seemed to echo from some very distant place in its hood. "And I have come to reap what you have sown."

Thank you for reading this very brief chapter of Diablo: Retribution. If there is anything you would like to see improved, or anything that is not clear, please leave a review, and I promise I will read it. I have nothing better to do. Seriously, the stakes are that high. Thank you-Cmort.


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